The Polite Killers
by Derek Athley
Summary: The Torchwood 3 team have a lot on their hands when they run into a very unexpected enemy - one of the deadliest and scariest beings of all the entirety of the universe. COMPLETED 21/12/2010.
1. Prologue

**A/N:**  
• This takes place before the end of season 2, but after Owen's "death".  
• This is my first fan-fiction, so please review. Even if it is negative in a way(that just means it is constructive criticism) :)  
• This is Part 1. It is also a rough draft and may be subject to change, depending.  
• Please leave ideas and help, if you don't mind :) I want to make it as close to the series as I can.  
• I'm American, so I don't know much about British currency and slang, so please help me if you either know it and/or you are British :D

* * *

Roger Esselman stared at the statue. It was gray stone, an angel. It was odd. It had its hands up over its face, as if it were in a game of hide and seek. Roger walked all the way around it. It was sturdy, for sure. It was also taller than him. Probably about six and a half feet, if he had to guess.

"I'll take it," he said to the shop-keep next to him. "How much will it cost me?"

"Three-hundred twenty-one pounds sterling," the shop-keep replies.

"That's all? That's grand cheap, that is. Why so low?"

"Well, because no one wants to buy it. They say it moves. The previous owner also practically gave it away. Well, he did, actually. Came in here and said he had a statue. He was frightened. He said it wanted to kill him and he'd be glad to get rid of it. He didn't ask for anything, but I talked him into taking five-hundred pounds."

"I'll take it. I was expecting to spend more on it, but that's cheap. I'll buy it for five-hundred, so you don't lose any money, at least. Look great in my garden, it will."

The two of them walked into the other room to make the business transfer complete. The angel turned its head and watched the men. Its blank eyes just looked. They just stared before it moved back to its original position before the men turned around and caught it.

The two men came back in. The shop-keep carried a dolly with him and they wheeled it to the parking lot where Roger had parked his truck. They loaded it into the back and Mr. Esselman sent leavings to the shop-keep.

The drive home wasn't that long this time around. He lived out on the edge of Cardiff, but the excitement of finally having a real statue for his garden instead of the plastic ones he had been using was enough to make hours seem like only seconds. He pulled into his driveway and practically skipped the whole time he was setting up the angel in his garden out back.

The sun had fallen by the time he was satisfied. He turned on the back light and grabbed a camera. He took several photos from various angles. He printed the photos afterward, a total of nineteen. After setting them on the counter, he headed to his room. He opened the door, but vanished before taking one step forward. He was dropped back in time by the Weeping Angels, the polite killers.

#########################################

Forty-eight hours prior, a somewhat older man bumped into Captain Jack Harkness. "I'm sorry, sir," he apologized, about to leave. Then he realized something and turned back around. "Sir, are you Jack? Captain Jack Harkness of Torchwood?"

The captain looked the man in the eyes and told him to follow him. They went to an empty booth in a cafe. The man sipped on a coffee, black with no sugar, while Jack drank down a glass of water.

"Tell me who you are and how you know about Torchwood," the stern captain demanded.

"I am Roger Esselman. I used to work with Torchwood back about twenty years ago. I was trying to figure something out, but never could. You see, I need Torchwood's help because... Well, because I can't do it."

"You are an ex-Torchwood employee? How is that possible?"

"The others were all... They were all killed. Killed in the same way I was. Or rather, in the same way I will."

"Which is how, Mr. Esselman?" interrogated the captain.

"By a stone angel. They were taken literally in the blink of an eye. They were dropped. Dropped back in time. I don't know where either."

"By the sound of it, you're dealing with what is called a Weeping Angel. They are the scariest creatures in all of existence with no way to kill them and, as a friend of mine would say, the only psychopaths to kill you nicely. They are the polite killers, if you don't mind me saying so."

"Captain, you've got to help the world. In about two days, I will get the angel and I will disappear. I cannot stop that, but after those two days, you and your team can come with me to my house and stop it."

"What do you mean you get it in two days time?"

Roger took another sip of his coffee. "You can't and shouldn't change the past. My time in Torchwood has taught me that much, Captain. However, I was twenty-nine when I found it. It was a deal at only five-hundred quid. That night, I was going to bed and it took me. Dropped me in the year 1975."

Jack looked at Roger and said nothing. After a brief moment, he put the glass of water up to his mouth and drank the last swig of the glass's contents. He stood and put his hand up to his ear and pressed down on his communicator.

"Owen, Gwen, Tosh, and Ianto. Prepare the base. I've got a guest with me. A member or ex-member of Torchwood coming home with me."


	2. Twenty Angels

**A/N:**  
• Thanks for the review of chapter 1 :) This is Part 2.  
• Please review. Even if it is negative in a way(that just means it is constructive criticism) :)  
• I'm American, so I don't know much about British currency and slang, so please help me if you either know it and/or you are British :D  
• Sorry that this chapter is kind of short, but I wanted to leave off with the "twenty angels" cliffhanger and didn't know what else to put.

* * *

Jack and Roger walked into the Hub and all heads turned to peer at the latter. The man was 61, but he looked as if he were only in his early to mid-forties. It was all the excerise and running around that kept him in shape. It was surprising that he even made it past forty. The life expectancy of a Torchwood member – other than Jack, of course – was mid-thirties.

Gwen walked up and held out a hand, which Roger shook with a soft smile. "Hello. I'm Gwen Cooper."

"Hello, pretty lady. Back in the day there weren't any pretty girls in Torchwood. They were, and please excuse me saying so, wretched. But here, there's you and her. Wished I coulda' met you lot before the incident."

Owen merely waved hello, and Tosh smiled, her being busy working on the translation program. Ianto, however, handed him a cup of coffee. "What incident would that be, sir?"

Jack spoke up before he could answer. "He was attacked by an alien called the Weeping Angel. They are stone statues – or at least, they are until you look away. They have the perfect defense that when any biological optics of any sort lay sight on it, it turns to stone. When they look away or blink, it moves. If it catches you, it will drop you back in time. It could be by a day, or by more than a millenia."

Owen looked up. "Wait, so that means they kill you before you are even born? And that there are two of him?"

"Yes. In some situations, you die before you are born, and yes, there is a younger me living right outside of Cardiff for another thirty or so hours."

"And you want us to go there, stop the angel from ever taking you, and save the world?" Owen asked.

"Stop the angel, yes. Save the world, yes. Prevent me from being taken, no. I don't really regret it. I wonder what life I would have lived otherwise, but I had a happy life in the past."

########## **32 Hours, 47.19 Minutes Later** ##########

The team packed up into the black SUV with a ton of equipment. Owen was behind the wheel. Jack rode shotgun. Gwen and Tosh were on either side of Roger. Ianto was in the back making sure there were no faults in the equipment. Jack was explaining the rules of confrontation for the angel.

"Guys. Rule number one: if you see it, you DO NOT look away. You call the rest of the team without blinking or turning back. Second, do not look it in the eye. If you do, you will slowly convert into an angel yourself. The third rule, no photographs of videos. That which holds the image of an angel is an angel itself. That is how they reproduce. Any questions?"

Ianto poked his head up. "Yeah, I might have one. Why do we need all six of us? I know you need Roger, but all of us?"

Jack looked at him through the rearview mirror. "I need all of us because this is one of the deadliest beings to ever exist. We need every set of eyes we can get."

The SUV pulled into the driveway of the home of what was once Roger Esselman, a home landscaper and gardener. Now, Roger Esselman of Torchwood is pulling up to save the house. They got out and started walking, but Roger stopped them.

"Guys, there's something you have to know. It's not just one angel. I took nineteen pictures last night before it took me. That makes twenty angels in total. I didn't know at the time about the images."


	3. The Attack Begins

**A/N:**  
• Thanks for the reviews :) This is Part 3  
• Please review. Even if it is negative in a way(that just means it is constructive criticism) :)

* * *

"Twenty angels!" exclaimed Jack in a panic, "Aw, hell! There's no way we will be able to handle them all!"

He got out the SUV and was angry. The others followed his example of getting out. Ianto passed equipment belts to each of them. There weren't any large guns, but they did have pistols just in case. Jack had told them that guns don't kill the angels because they are literally and completely stone when you see them. There were portable stasis prisons, flashlights, and miniature detonation mines. They prepared to fight an army when they thought it was only one angel, but now Jack wondered if this would be enough for a squadron of weeping angels.

"Jack," Gwen said, "We'll be able to handle it. If we be careful and take just one at a time, then all should work out."

"Yeah," he replied. "Roger! Where is the original angel?"

"It is probably in the garden out back. I don't think that it was the one that took me, so if we take it out first, we should be safe. However, I am still in there at the moment. It'll be about twenty minutes before I go to open my bedroom door and am taken."

Jack looked over everyone. They all seemed ready for the task knowing the danger that they could be sent back in time to the age of dinosaurs, or even before the birth of the planet Earth. They could get stuck in the middle of either of the World Wars, or even in the Crusades. For all they know, they could only be placed back in time by a few hours. They doubted that last possibility, though. It didn't seem likely seeing as the angels feed off of potential energy. They would probably want at least a decade worth of such an energy.

"Okay, guys. Circular formation. Everyone looking out and behind. I'll be looking forward. We are going to find the angels and be done with it. Everything ready?"

Everyone nodded. They took out their pistols and flashlights. They never knew when they might need to shoot something or someone, even though Jack told them it was senseless to use a gun on a weeping angel. They formed a small circle with Jack leading. Owen and Ianto watched the back while Gwen watched westward and Tosh east. Roger stood in the middle looking in all directions and showing Jack the way.

They slowly made their way around to the back yard. They rounded the corner and stared into the garden. Both Jack's and Roger's jaws dropped. Standing in the center of the garden was worse than an entire army of ancient Romans. It was a group of weeping angels that seemed to be mimicking the Torchwood team. There were five in a circle looking outwards and one in the center, looking directly up. The first five were covering their eyes with their hands and the one in the center had his hands down at an angle with the palms facing out as if he(or she, perhaps?) were something holy. His mouth was wide open and teeth were sharp looking.

"What a frightening image," Roger thought out loud. Everyone turned to look what he was talking about and their expressions were exactly the same as his and Jack's. Jack straightened up and walked forward to meet the angel that was in "his" position. He rubbed his hand on its cheek gently before walking back, never taking his eyes off of them.

"I don't think that any of them are the original. They seem to be playing with us," he said. "No one take your eyes off of them. I'm going to put them in an anti-gravity stasis prison."

He thought a moment, then turned to Roger, looking at the group of stone statues out of the corner of his eye. "Do you have a trailer here? We might need one."

"Yeah. Its in the shed, but its locked and the key is in my bedroom."

"Hmm. That might be a problem. You can't get it at the moment. You're still in there for another fifteen minutes. What do you think you are doing?"

Roger looked at the wall of the house. "Well, I printed the pictures about thirty minutes ago. Right now, I think I'm in the bathroom about to finish bathing."

"Okay. You and Owen go ahead in. Be careful not to let the younger you see you and try to avoid the angels. If you see one, put it in stasis lock. Oh, and you can't change the course of time. Please try to remember that. It would put us in a time paradox-loop that would never cease to end."

Roger gave him a thumbs up and went into the house followed closely by Owen. Jack, Gwen, and Ianto started putting the group of angels into an anti-gravity stasis lock. Toshiko stood lookout watching the angels so that they didn't move.

Inside the house, Roger and Owen silently crept through the house. They stopped in front of a door before turning back and hiding behind the corner away from the hall. Not even half a second later, a much younger Roger stepped out of the bathroom. He looked around then headed to the closet. The older Roger closed his eyes for a moment. He turned to Owen and motioned for him to go back the other way. They barely found themselves kneeling behind the computer desk when a soaked Roger walked into the room. He walked over to the lightswitch to turn it off while Roger and Owen snuck behind him and back into the hall. They slid into Roger's bedroom and quietly closed the door behind them. Roger went over to his bed-side drawer while Owen whispered questions.

"What are you doing right now, out there?"

"Turning off the lights in the other rooms and then shutting down the computer and setting the coffee pot," he replied, half-concentrating. Finally, he found something small and bronze. "Aha! Found it!"

As soon as he said that, they heard footsteps in the hall. They stopped for a moment, which granted them enough time to get out through a side door. Roger peeked into the hall from the small, dark corner he walked into to avoid being spotted. The instant he did, he saw something horrifying. The twenty-nine year old was putting a clean bath robe in the towel closet, but right behind him was a hideous angel. The stone demon had its hands up and claws out. Its mouth was wide open and its eyes were pointed directly at the older man's corner. He realized that he was supposed to have been gotten a lot earlier than he was, but the older him saved him. He knew he couldn't do that.

The young man slowly walked forward, deeper into the hall, as the older man watched. Roger stopped at the bedroom door and reached for the knob. He grabbed it firmly in his right hand and turned. He swung it open at the same time as the sixty-one year old closed his eyes. After a brief second, he opened them back up. His other self was gone and he stared into the chest of a six-foot tall stone statue. Owen came out while Roger just stared without blinking. He had, after all, the longest record for staring competitions as a kid in primary with the longest time being two minutes and thirty-eight seconds. Owen put the angel in a stasis prison and motioned to Roger, who promptly got up.

"You didn't want to close your eyes, did you?" Owen asked.

Roger looked down as if he were ashamed, then looked back at Owen. "No. No, I didn't, but I knew I had to. You know, I actually saved myself for a moment. I disappeared at my bedroom doorway, but I would have been taken a few seconds earlier if I had not been here."

The two started walking. "Funny, you know. Funny how time works."

"Yeah," Roger replied. The two headed back to the yard with the angel suspended in anti-gravity in close tow behind them. They came out the back door, which was a sliding glass panel, and saw that the group was just finishing getting the angels in stasis lock. Jack looked up at the key Roger was holding towards him and gave his infamous Harkness grin.

"So, that's the key? Great! Now, just to get the rest of the angels and we are done. Run into any trouble?"

Owen shook his head and nodded at the angel, "Other than this guy, the one that dropped Roger spiraling in time, there was no trouble at all."

"Good," Jack replied. "Now, let's get going on collecting the others. That's seven caught. We are doing better than I thought."

As soon as he finished his sentence, everyone turned to head inside. Jack waited behind everyone for them to go in. Gwen walked through the door, then turned around.

"Jack, what are we goi-," she paused in mid-sentence. Jack was gone, but there were no angels other than the ones in stasis lock. Although, one of them did look a bit off, but she payed no mind to it. "Guys! Jack's gone!"


	4. Out Played

**A/N:**  
• Thanks for the reviews :) This is Part 4  
• Please review. Even if it is negative in a way(that just means it is constructive criticism) :)  
• If you have any ideas on lengthening this, or where some of the angels should hide, please tell me in either a review or a PM. Thanks :D  
• This one is another "kinda-sorta" short one. But, I can't wait to read your reviews :)

* * *

"What do you mean that Jack's gone?" asked Tosh, coming up behind her.

"I mean exactly that! He's disappeared," Gwen contested.

Owen looked out the open back door. After peering for a moment, he cleared his throat – or at least, he cleared it best a dead guy could – and spoke. "Well, I guess that puts me in command. He should be back any minute, he is immortal, after all. Alright. We'll do it this way. Gwen and Ianto pair up. Tosh, you will accompany me and Roger."

The group of five split into their assigned teams and both groups headed to their own sections of the house. Gwen and Ianto went towards the kitchen area. There was no sign of an angel there, but they didn't know how to handle one, anyhow. Ianto walked over to the coffee pot, pointing his pistol and torch down in one hand. He turned it on and the pot roared to life. He turned to Gwen.

"Would you like a cup of coffee? I have a bad feeling that it's going to be a dreadfully long night."

Gwen, who was looking in a corner that couldn't be seen very well from the entrance merely refused. At that instant, they heard a loud crashing noise behind Ianto. They both turned immediately and found themselves face-to-face with one of the stone demons. It was bigger than the others. At least eight foot tall. Ianto looked down at its arm. It hand its left hand in a fist that smashed through the coffee pot. The other hand was reaching for Ianto's neck, but was caught in time the instant the two Torchwood members layed eye on him.

Ianto raised his gun to the statue's head while Gwen prepared the stasis lock. Unfortunately, the lock of her choice was giving her trouble and wouldn't activate and she clenched her eyes shut and slapped her palms against her forehead in frustration. Ianto looked down at her, forgetting the angel.

"What's wrong?" he asked as she looked up at him. She looked terrified and he knew why. He felt something ice cold gripping his throat and it didn't feel at all good like it did when he and Jack were role-playing. The hand of stone was gripping with a finger at one of the nerves, preventing him from turning his head. He tried slipping out, but it was difficult. He was finally able to slip free, but in doing so, he left some terrible marks on his neck. Blood slowly dripped from one of the deeper gashes left by the coarse stone arm.

He looked directly at the angel and put his pistol back to aiming at its head. Gwen kneeled back down at the angel and tried to put another stasis lock on the angel. It still wouldn't work. Suddenly, the lights flickered for a moment then came right back on. The angel had moved again. The lights grew dimmer, even the torch. The rate at which the lights dimmed was constant, and it wouldn't be too long before the lights were completely black. Ianto stared at the angel with gun and torch still in hand, but slowly backing to the door. Gwen stared at it too while backing out, trying to catch up with Ianto.

"We have to leave this one alone for now, Ianto" she said.

"Yeah. I know. Check the hall again, please," he asked nicely.

Gwen turned corner around the doorway and quickly scanned the hall with her torch. She saw nothing, but she had to be sure. She stepped a little further out and scanned again. Still nothing. "All clear!"

Ianto backed out of the doorway and quickly slammed the door shut, not letting the angel out of his sight until the door completely obscured the view. The instant it was shut, the pair heard more thrashing about. The angel was angry. It was pissed and it wouldn't be too long before it decided to take its anger out on an unsuspecting victim. Carefully, but with haste, the two made their way to another area of the house, which was a tad bit larger on the inside than it appeared on the outside.

####################

Roger heard the thrashing about downstairs and had a pretty good guess that one of the angels had grown up violent. He followed behind Owen and Tosh followed behind him. Tosh watched behind them and Owen watched ahead as Roger opened the bathroom door and bust in. He flipped the light on and examined behind the door, in the shower, and in the closet containing the hot water heater.

"Nothing," he said to them and rejoined them in the hall. They moved on to the next room, a spare guest room Roger had for when his father visited. Again, Owen and Tosh watched the hall as Roger went into the spare room. There was nothing in the main room, but there was a noise in the closet.

"There's something in the closet in here. I need you two to come in here and stand guard while I check it out!" he said. The two followed him and watched his back as he neared the closet on the other side of the room. They both turned to face the closet with guns and torches held out as he reached to open it. He put his hand on the doorknob and tried to turn, but it wouldn't budge. It felt as if something with unimaginable strength was holding onto the other side of it.

"Back up. I'll shoot the lock off," Owen exclaimed stepping forward. Roger moved aside and he and Tosh watched as Owen aimed the pistol at the knob. He was about to pull the trigger when they heard something slam. The three of them turned around and saw that the door was shut behind them. They rushed over to it and tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge either. Owen raised the pistol as the other two backed up. He pulled the trigger. _Chink!_ He pulled it again. _Chink!_ He pulled it three more times. _Chink! Chink! Chink!_

"Blasted pistol! Those bloody pissing angels must have done something to them!" Owen swore, then looking at the clip, which he found was empty. The other two did the same, and the same was true for them.

"How did that happen?" Tosh asked, "How could they have gotten all the bullets out of our clips without us seeing them?"


	5. The Optics That Don't Work

**A/N: **_(thanks for the reviews ;P)_  
• This is Part 5  
• Please review. Even if it is negative in a way(that just means it is constructive criticism) :)

* * *

"I don't know," Owen said. He looked around the room. The two doors were being held shut by something much stronger than them and he didn't have the bullets to blast that being into dust. He looked at the window, but the thought didn't last more than a second seeing as they were on the second floor. He would surely break something and he knew he couldn't heal. Not to mention the fact that they would have probably also locked the doors leading in and out of the house.

A bang came from the other side of the closet door. Roger walked over to the door and tried to open it again. Nothing. He got frustrated and kicked the door. Another bang came from the bottom portion of the door. Roger looked up, confused. He knocked on the door once. A single bang parallel to his sounded. He knocked twice. Two knocks replied. He knocked in a catchy, but long and complicated, rhythym. The same exact rhythym came from the other side of the door.

"I think this one's a copy cat!" he exclaimed. The reply frightened him more than anything he had ever heard before.

"I think this one's a copy cat!" a raspy and evil sounding voice replied from the closet.

"What was that?" Tosh asked, shocked. The voice replied. "What was that!"

"Tosh, Roger. Step away from the door," Owen said. He walked forward to it while the evil voice rasped out the repeat of his order. As soon as he was close to the door, he stopped. He motioned the other two to the other side of the room, then hit the door as hard as he could with the butt of the gun and backed out. The other two were facing the bedroom door. Then, a hole appeared in the closet door, causing the others to turn around. The three of them looked at the stone hand that was stretched out and wide open as if it were grasping at something big that wasn't there.

####################

Ianto and Gwen stood in a first floor room. It was empty, all but a closet. Which, of course, they had already tried to check. It was being held shut, and the door had already been shut in them. They tried blowing the lock off, but they realized that the bullets had been stripped from their clips. Gwen had suggested the window, but Ianto wanted to think about any other way they could get out, his argument being that if they were shut in the room, then wouldn't they also be shut out of the house?

"Alright. Let's go through the window," he said, giving up. Gwen went over to the window and attempted to open it. Of course, it wouldn't budge. They had guessed this. Gwen took her gun, shielded her eyes, and slammed down and the window as hard as she could. The window shattered into a million little pieces. Some of the glass landed on the windowsill and the floor, but most of it landed on the ground outside. She smiled with relief and looked at Ianto.

"C'mon, now. Hurry up and crawl through it," he said, "Before the angels get the others in this situation!"

Ianto crawled out right after Gwen. The two found themselves on the other side of the house. They walked around to the back of the house, still being very cautious. Ianto stopped when they got to the garden and grabbed a shovel. Gwen, following his lead, grabbed a cricket bat that was sitting up against the house. They edged closer to the back door where they left the angels that where in stasis. They passed the seven angels in stasis. Ianto went to open the door, but Gwen stopped him and nodded towards the angels.

"I thought there were eight of them?" she asked, "The seven that were mocking us, and the one that Roger and Owen bagged."

Ianto looked and thought. "Yeah, you're right. The one in the center is gone."

"I thought so." She looked around. "Where could it be and how could it have possibly escaped the stasis lock?"

"Don't know," Ianto shrugged.

There was a loud bang inside from the upper story. Gwen and Ianto rushed in. Luckily, they hadn't been locked out. They headed for the stairs, not even being careful to watch for angels. Suddenly, Gwen hit the floor. She looked behind her. One of the angels had grabbed her ankle and wouldn't let go.

"Ianto!" she exclaimed. She didn't have to. He had already turned around the instant he heard her hit the staircase. He rushed down to help her. There were two angels. One currently had a deadlock grip on Gwen's ankle and the other one wasn't that far behind it and ready to attack. They were hungry and they _were_ going to have their meal one way or the other.

Ianto ran back to help her. He grabbed on both sides of the angel's hand and pulled. He knew he couldn't force the stone hand apart, but he figured it was worth a try. He then grabbed the shovel and started beating it in the head. Nothing. He sighed. He looked at her and his eyes told her what he was thinking. He wasn't proud of his last resort to save her as it might just kill her. It was the only option he had, though.

"We are going to have to close our eyes for a brief moment. Half a second and not a single millisecond longer," he said. She nodded. They both looked at the two angels and closed their eyes. Exactly half a second after closing them, they both opened their eyes and they were glad they hadn't waited any longer. The one that was grabbing at Gwen's ankle had let go and had crawled nearly on top of her with its mouth near her shoulder. The other one had gotten not ten centimeters further from Ianto's face. If he were to stick out his tongue, he could have licked the stone demon in his face without moving his head. He didn't want to think about that at the moment, though.

He slowly backed up behind Gwen. While still watching the two angels, he helped pull her out from under the heavy stone that was on top of her. Luckily it hadn't put any pressure or she would have been stuck - or killed - for sure. As soon as she was out, they each put a stasis lock on the angels and moved them off the staircase. That made nine angels. They had captured ten, but one had broken free. They both hoped that neither of these two could do that. Then, they heard another bang upstairs and ran up and into the hall.

In the middle of the hall, holding a bedroom door shut, was an angel. It held the door easily with only one hand. The other was pointed at the two of them. Neither blinked. They slowly walked forward and Gwen reached for another stasis lock. She felt nothing. She reached again. Nothing. Ianto did the same. He'd forgotten that they each only had four. Both his and Gwen's were already used up. They used their last ones on the angels downstairs. Another bang came from the room. This time, it was against the door the angel held shut.

################################

Tosh and Owen slammed against the door one more time. Still, it didn't budge. While they had Roger watching the angel whose hand was reaching out of a hole in the center of the closet door, they were trying to make the angel holding them in let go by throwing themselves at the door with all of their might. It wasn't working. If only they had a screwdriver, Owen thought. As if he could read minds, Roger piped in.

"Hey, one of you come and watch this angel and I'll take the door knob off. I never have left the house without a screwdriver," he suggested. Owen looked at him.

"Oh, fine. Take the bloody knob off. I'll watch the pissing closet angel," he said. After realizing what he said, he sort of chuckled under his breath at the reference to a stone angel possibly being gay.

He walked over to the closet and Roger knelt down in front of the doorknob and started taking out the screws holding it to the door. Tosh glanced back and forth occasionally from Roger to Owen. Roger was almost done, so she decided to watch the door so the angel on the other side couldn't get the upper hand over them. Owen, watching the stone hand, thought that he was going mad. He knew he wasn't blinking - the dead had no reason or need to blink - but he could swear that the hand was coming out of the hole. He watched as it reached out - now the entire thing up to the elbow was out - and reached for the knob. It turned the knob and pushed the door off its hinges.

_What's the point of turning the knob, then,_ Owen thought to himself. It gently set the door on the floor and stood up straight and looked at Owen. One of its eyebrows raised and its head turned. Even though Owen was staring the thing down properly, the angel could move. Both Owen and the angel were just as confused as the other.

**If you have any ideas on how to lengthen this, or where some angels should hide, please let me know via either a review or a PM.  
Also, if you have any good tricks for the angels, or plot twists, do the same. :)**


	6. Five Armies Left

**A/N: **_(thanks for the reviews ;P)_  
• This is Part 6  
• Please review. Even if it is negative in a way(that just means it is constructive criticism) :)

* * *

The angel turned its head upright and lowered its eyebrows. It went to jump at Owen - had its mouth open and arms out - but stopped just before it leapt. Owen turned. Tosh and Roger had the door half open and Ianto and Gwen stood outside of it just behind the angel that had been holding that door. All four of them were looking at the closet angel and Owen.

"You were letting the angel move?" Gwen asked demandingly.

"No I wasn't! The pissing thing moved of its own accord! I was watching it the whole time!" He contested, getting defensive.

"Then why was it moving? You must've been blinking or not looking at it!" she exclaimed, getting defensive herself.

"I wasn't pissing blinking! I'm not that bloody stupid!" he raised his voice.

"Guys!" Tosh yelled. "Stop fighting! We are supposed to be a team! Maybe him being dead has something to do with why the angel was moving!"

Roger looked between the four younger members of Torchwood. They fought just like he and his teammates used to fight. However, he knew this wasn't going to get them anywhere and he reached for two of his stasis locks.

"Guys, just lock them," he said before turning to Gwen and Ianto, "Did you two get any?"

Ianto answered because Gwen seemed to still be pissed. "Yeah. We got two of them. However, one of the first ones that was caught somehow escaped. We have a total of nine, then these two. That's ten of them."

"Okay," he confirmed as he locked the one in place. Owen and Tosh were busy locking the other in a stasis as well. They moved the angels downstairs with the two caught by Ianto and Gwen. They then decided to move them all outside. As soon as they were outside, Roger put them all together. Sure enough, one of them had escaped. They had caught eleven, but one had escaped.

They decided to head into the kitchen and deal with the tall angel. They walked through the living room and went to the kitchen door. There was a light shining from under the door, meaning that it was safe to go in. Tosh prepped a stasis lock ahead of time thanks to the warnings of Gwen and Roger grabbed the door knob. He counted to three, then jerked it open. All five of them ran into the kitchen and stared in the direction of the angel. It wasn't big. Just the same size as the others, but it had a coffee cup in its hand and up to its mouth. Coffee dripped slowly from the cup and ran down from its mouth.

"What the bloody hell?" Roger exclaimed looking at the demolished kitchen. The others couldn't help but laughing at the angel drinking its coffee. Owen thought he was about to die of laughter if he wasn't already dead.

"You like my work, then?" came Jack's voice as he walked from behind the angel. He seemed a lot older than any of them could comprehend. Seeing their stares, he decided to explain. "I was dropped back to the Battle at Canary Wharf. Exhausting trying to escape younger selves. Sorry I'm late. Kinda lost track of time."

"It's fine," Gwen said, resisting the urge to hug him. One look at Ianto said the same for him as well. There was a brief awkward silence that was short-lived thanks to Owen.

"Any who! News... I don't affect the angels. Any ideas as to why?" he questioned.

"Not a clue. Anything else?"

"Yeah. One of them also talked. It mimicked what we were saying," he replied.

Tosh and Roger both looked at him. Tosh spoke, "What do you mean it talked? All it did was knock, then it sounded like it was scratching at the door."

"You didn't hear it? It was as bloody plain as day!" he exclaimed, getting frustrated.

"Owen!" Jack said, "Do remember that you are different than anyone in this room. I think that may be why. You are dead, so maybe that is why your gaze doesn't stop them. Your ears may also be able to pick them up for the same reason. I'm also going to assume that because you are dead, they either can't or won't drop you back in time. That is a good thing. Let's hope that is right, though."

Roger was definitely shocked now. "What do you mean, 'He is dead?'"

Owen looked at Roger and casually replied, "I was shot in the chest. I died. Jack brought me back to life with a glove called the Risen Mitten. Something weird about it happened and I stayed in this world. Its only my consciousness, though. My bodily functions still don't work. Not a damn one of them."

Roger was still shocked, but he kept silent. Owen looked back at Jack, as did everyone else. He seemed to be thinking.

"Okay. We have the seven that were caught before I left and the two caught by Ianto and Gwen. Then the two just caught. Now this one, leaving us only eight left to catch."

Gwen was the first to reply, "I know where two of them might be. They locked us in a room."

Jack grinned. "Good. Lead the way so we can get them."

Ianto and Gwen took their cue and left the kitchen. The backtracked the way they went the last time they left it and found themselves in the hall that the room they were trapped in was on. There were two angels. One of them was still holding the door and the other seemed to be moving out of the hall towards them. It was caught and trapped. Sure enough, the team was quick to grab it. Roger put it in a stasis lock and Jack went to the other one. He pulled its hand off the door after freezing it in time. The team went into the room and looked around. The closet door was busted off its hinges and the angel stood frozen in motion on the other side of the room holding it in his hand. Tosh was the first one to get there and put it in stasis.

Jack was ecstatic. "Well, that makes fifteen! Only five more to go! Never thought we'd do this well!"

"Thanks for your support and confidence, Captain!" Owen replied with a heavy layer of sarcasm.

Ignoring Owen's remark, Jack walked out of the room. The others followed, with Tosh bringing the angel. Jack and Ianto each grabbed one of the angels from the hall. They led them outside with the first seven then came back and got the other five. The group stared at the fifteen angels they had caught. Fifteen stone angels about six and a half foot tall each was a hell of a lot of stone. Grouped together, it was a very large group. It seemed like an army to everyone and Jack knew that it was so much more than just an army. It was fifteen armies and there were still five left to go. He sighed both of relief that they had almost finished catching them and of fear that the five remaining ones would take their lives. His life again and again and again and again, most likely.

"All right! He wants to go catch some more stone angels?" he said, turning around to face the group that wasn't there. _Damn it!_ he thought. _Turn my back for one second and everyone gets careless!_

**Thanks to the reviews :)  
If anyone has any ideas for this story, act fast! The "episode" will be ending soon!**


	7. The Face of an Angel

**A/N: **_(thanks for the reviews ;P)_  
• This is Part 7  
• Please review. Even if it is negative in a way(that just means it is constructive criticism) :)

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Jack felt that everyone had let him down and ended their lives. He also figured he was wrong about the angels not dropping Owen back in time simply because of the fact that he was already dead. He was about to start beating himself up when he heard a chuckle coming from the bushes. Owen stood up.

"I can't do this any more! It was too funny!" he said as everyone else stood up from behind the bushes.

"Okay, who's idea was it?" Jack asked. Everyone looked at Owen, who simply shrugged with his famous cheeky grin crossed on his face. "You're on clean up duty for a month! This is serious business. You can't joke about like this with the angels anywhere within a mile of you. Let's go."

The team followed Jack back into the house. They went upstairs to the second floor and stopped for a moment while Jack looked around. He finally set off again, heading to an area of the house that had yet remained unexplored by anyone. They stopped in front of a room that they had heard a large ruckus coming from. Jack looked back and nodded to the room, then turned again and grabbed the doorknob. He turned it slowly before slamming the door inwards, showing the face of darkness in the room. Jack was about to step into the room when random objects started flying out of the room.

"They said to get out," Owen said as Jack rubbed his forehead where a paper weight had hit him.

"Okay. Well, I'm not listening," he replied and ran into the room.

"Uh, they said that you don't want to do that! Or that! Now that's just pushing your limits! Hey, you can't grab him there! Good bye weird human invader person thingy!" Owen said, translating every word they said to the very dot, word for word.

There was a crash and the lights came on. One of the angels was on the floor and Jack was on top of it, struggling. The other angel was in the air when the lights came on and hit the floor with a loud and painful sounding _thud_.

"Now's not the right time for that, Jack!" Gwen exclaimed. Jack looked back up at her and said, "What? It is prettier than the others, is it not?"

Everyone busted out laughing except for Ianto and Roger. Roger didn't know what was going on. Ianto saw that on his face and explained. "There's not a single living creature or soul in this universe that Jack would hesitate to, erm, get "into bed" with. If you know what I mean."

Roger only said "Oh!" and nodded. He hoped that Jack didn't try to hit on him. He was an old man and wouldn't stand for that. But then again, Jack was much older than anyone knew. Even if he didn't look it. That in itself made Roger feel even older than he was.

"We will leave these two in the hall here and get them on the way back," Jack explained after they were put in stasis and dragged out into the hall. "Now, let's go find the other three."

They set off further down the hall. They busted two rooms open. One was another hall way closet and one was a guest bedroom. Neither of them contained even a single trace of a stone angel. They looked in the bathroom to. Nothing in the bathtub, nothing under the sink or in the back of the toilet. Nothing behind the door. That left one room left to go. The busted down the door against the protests of Roger. They should have listened to him and just opened it instead of breaking it off the hinges as there wasn't an angel in there either. Jack scratched his head.

"Where could they be, then?" he asked. As if an answer to his question, a loud banging came from directly below them.

"That's my bedroom right under us," Roger said. "Oh my god! They're in my bedroom!"

Everyone broke out in a run towards the stairs. Ianto and Jack grabbed the two angels they left in the hall on the way back. They ran downstairs and left the angels by the back door and ran to catch up with the others. Everyone was piled up around the old man's bedroom door. Jack walked forward and grabbed the door handle. He looked at everyone hesitatingly, then slammed it open and everyone ran into the room. In one of the chairs was a regular sized angel sitting laid back. Its arms were on each of the respective chair arms and its legs were crossed in a comfortable looking fashion. It looked as if it could be a mafia crime lord. On either side of it were large angels. They each stood about eight foot tall. There was no doubt that one of them was the one that Ianto and Gwen first encountered in the kitchen.

"Okay, so the one in the center is probably the original," Jack said. Everyone agreed with him. It wasn't that one they feared so much. It was the other two that scared them. The ones that looked like they could crush a Russian tank to dust without lifting more than two fingers. "These are the last three. We have to get them. We've got a chance."

"I heard something. One of them talking. Just before the door was opened," Owen said.

"Now's not the time, Owen!" Jack exclaimed.

"It said 'the one without time and the one after death; the one that can hear us.' I think that's important, Jack!" he retorted.

Jack glanced back at Owen, "The one without time? Is that a reference to me?"

Owen shrugged, "How do you expect me to know? I could always ask them, should you wish it."

Jack thought a moment, then proceeded putting a stasis lock on the large two before they could drain the energy. He then turned to Owen. "You have five minutes with it, then we come in. Got it?"

Owen nodded.

"Good," Jack said, leaving the room. Gwen grabbed the large angel on the left and Roger grabbed the large angel on the right. Everyone besides Owen left the room and he shut the door behind them. He turned to the angel in the chair. It uncrossed its legs and stood. It was truly a sight to behold. A horrific sight, even. It no longer looked as if it were stone. Its skin was a grainy dull yellow. The angelic robes it wore were blackened as if by soot. Its hair was a shade of brown. The eyes were completely black and you could almost see the blood stains on the pinkish coloured teeth and long demonic claws. If this was an angel, he wondered what a demon looked like.

"So," the angel said, just standing there. "You can hear me. You can see me move. The optical center of your brain doesn't work, does it, Owen Harper?"

Owen was afraid. No, he was worse off than that. He was petrified with nothing but pure, raw fear. But, he had always been good under pressure. On the outside, he was cool, calm, and collected. "Of course I can't hear you. I only understand every word you say. Although, I must point this out... You are one ugly ass species. You know that, right?"

This last comment angered the angel. "You dare not speak ill of the Weeping Angels! We are the dominant species in all the galaxy! We rule it! We _own_ it!"

"You own it, eh?" Owen asked, crossing his arms in faux disbelief. "Then why are you not the governors? The _gods_ of our little tiny minds and our little tiny worlds? _Why are you not the gods?_"

This caught the angel off guard. He had never been asked why he was not a god of minds, of worlds. Owen practically yelling the last question also through the angel off guard. The only human, the only being in the universe, that could hear and see the angels as they truly were was a brave or foolish idiot in his own rights. Weeping Angels always assumed that their real image would turn the weak minded humans' brains into dust in an instant, and yet here was a human _arguing_ with an angel. The angel did not answer. Everything that Owen was doing - everything that Owen _was_ - made him more than confused. It made him speechless. It gave him a sense of honor and courage that he did not think the humans could show.

"What?" Owen asked, "Are you frightened of little old me?"

"No. There is no way that a being such as myself would ever be afraid of a weakling such as yourself," it replied. "I'm going to kill you. For once, I'm glad I can kill a being with the honor shown amongst warriors across the galaxy - honor first displayed by the earliest of human warriors."

With that being said, it leaped across the room at Owen. It caught him on either shoulder and he caught its wrists. He saw the face of the hideous angel looming before him. He felt the arms grabbing onto him. He felt something sucking at his soul. He felt like he was going to hurl.

**Thanks for all the reviews :)  
If anyone has any ideas for this, or for another story you want me to write, just PM me or leave them in a review! :)**

**_~~~ The "episode" will be ending soon! This is (most likely) either the next-to-last or the third-to-last chapter! ~~~_  
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	8. The Angel and I

**A/N: **_(thanks for the reviews ;P)_  
• This is Part 8, the final part of this "episode".  
• Please review. Even if it is negative in a way(that just means it is constructive criticism) :)

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**Thanks to _specialfrancine_ and _PCJanto_ for the reviews :)  
And to _specialfrancine_, even more thanks as you are a loyal follower :) If there had been no reviews, I probably would have quit writing it, but you are the one that reviewed every last chapter and begged for more, more, more. So here is the last bit of the "episode" of _The Polite Killers_. Thank you for your support!**

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Owen stared the angel in the face and it stared back at him. It felt as if everything in him were being sucked away and that his time was slowly slipping out of his grasp. It was devastating and agonizing pain. However, he refused to show such pain to the one being that would feel joy over it. He did not want to please the angel in the slightest. The angel seemed to be frustrated. It let go of him and the pain stopped. It looked at its hands and then back at Owen.

"You cannot exist!" it declared, almost as if trying to order Owen out of existence. It reared its right hand back behind its left side and slammed the whole arm forward into the unsuspecting and weary Torchwood member. The angel's arm hit into Owen's chest with enough force to send Owen flying backwards and busting right through the closed door. He hit against the wooden wall on the other side with a resounding _thud_. He checked his ribs. Luckily, nothing had been broken. He looked up just in time to see the angel flying towards him. It had launched itself into the air even before Owen had hit the door. Owen barely ducked out of the way. The angel hit the wall with the same resounding _thud_ that Owen had, only it was head first. The angel stood up, grabbed the back of its head - which had been turned right from the collision - with one hand and the lower jaw with the other. He twisted it sharply back into place and walked forward at the living dead man.

Owen knelt down into a sly offensive position and slowly drew a dagger from its sheath that lay on the back of his right side. He looked up at the advancing fowl creature, "Say, angel. What does your blood look like?"

He launched off of his back foot towards the angel. He slashed at the gut, but barely ticked the swift angel. Luckily, he was a fighter. He was able to quickly reposition himself and pick a new target. Within a fraction of a second, he was slicing at one of the arms. Again, a graze. However, there was at least blood. It was thick and a dark violet in colour. The angel had better reflexes than Owen. With its other hand, it slammed a closed fist into the left side of Owen's cheek and drew back for another hit. The fist came down, but this time, it hit the point of a blade. The dagger went into the hand between the ring and middle finger of the angels hand and completely through it. It sliced the hand literally in half and had gone past the angels wrist. The knuckles rested against the blade side of the small hand guard placed on the dagger specifically by Owen. The angel pulled its hand away from the now purple blade and retreated a few steps.

"What happens if you kill me, dead one?" the angel asked with a fire on its tongue. "Haven't you noticed it yet? My abilities were countered, but you can die here as well. When our two forces - my life force and your death force - collided, they paused time and counteracted one another. You can die - for good -, and yet, so can I. Only when one of us dies will they be able to escape!"

Owen looked behind the angel at something he had not noticed before. Sure enough, time was standing still. Roger was already out the door, presumably, and Ianto was almost around the corner with one of the angels. Gwen was right behind him with the other eight foot monstrosity of a stone statue. Jack was standing ten or so feet away from the door and he was looking at his watch. Nothing moved. Nothing breathed. Nothing blinked. Nothing did nothing - or rather, nothing did anything. Other than the angel and Owen, time was standing still. Owen looked back at the only other thing that could move for the moment being.

"I am Kyran, prince to the Weeping Angels! And, as you humans might say, _hear me ROAR!_" he said, then opening his mouth and leaning forward in a demonic battle cry that made Owen think that his ears might start bleeding. He almost reached up to check and make sure they weren't, but he remembered that the same thing that got him in this situation at the moment was the same thing behind why he knew he couldn't bleed. He was almost depressed once again for a split second. Then the roar ended and his ears felt better.

"Well, hello, Kyran. I am Owen. Second in command to Torchwood: Cardiff. Nice to make your acquaintance. Now die!" he said before throwing himself at Kyran, who dodged with amazing speed. Even with his wounded right hand, he was still at his peak. Truth be told, he had never been in a fight. No weeping angel had been. There had never been anyone to fight that could actually see what was going on. Owen presented a challenge and Kyran never wanted to turn down a challenge. Especially not a challenge that he knew he would never see again in his life. He dodged the oncoming Owen again, but Owen tricked him. Owen slammed his dagger into Kyran's side. Violet of the angel and red of Owen met and turned a dark black in shade of colour. Owen dug the dagger in deep and twisted it in three hundred sixty degrees counter clockwise. Kyran fell to the floor in agony. He was still able to hit backwards with his left hand. He struck the back side of Owen's head. Owen let go of the dagger and fell to the floor as well.

Almost immediately, they both stood. The dagger was still lodged deep into the left side just above Kyran's hip. Blood oozed from Owen's mouth and the back of his head. A violet scar had already replaced the first wound Owen had given the angel and the other one was soon to be completely healed. Owen watched as the fibers leaped out at each other and met, slowly healing the split in the demon's hand. Just as was the same for the wound in the side. It started slowly healing. Owen knew it was going to reach a point in which it would have to force the dagger out. When that moment came, he would be there to not only undo the healing, but also to do much more damage.

Owen stood up to his full height and stared the angel in his cold eyes. They seemed almost dead. Both of the determined beings strode forward. Kyran went for the undercut which Owen quickly avoided by shifting his weight to the left, then launching a kick at the upper portion of the angel's back. At the same time, he grabbed the dagger and - instead of pulling out - he ripped it upwards. The tear in the angel's side got bigger. He pulled it out and went to stab it into the angel's head, but Kyran swiftly avoided it. Kyran grinned, knowing that Owen had not noticed yet. With the short break, Owen wiped the blood from his chin and lips. He was about to prepare an attack when he stopped and looked at the red liquid like substance on his hand.

"How? I'm dead. The dead don't bleed!" he exclaimed.

Kyran's grin grew even larger, "So you finally noticed. I told you, our two 'forces' or 'abilities' or whatever you want to call them were neutralized when they collided. I can't drop you back in time and you... well, you will live for as long as we are fighting."

_Damn_, Owen thought. He figured that if he were already dead that he couldn't be killed. However, this put a damper on that theory. If he was alive, then he could now be killed. Not to mention that if he sustains any dangerous wounds and wins the fight, he would have to keep them. Forever. No doubt about his new plan: he would have deal out the maximum damage to the angel while sustaining no damage of his own.

He was certain that he could do it. He hoped he could do it, at least. He threw his arms up to block a blow from the angel and quickly went for a jab in the gut. It hit. Barely. He twisted and pulled and stabbed again, only a little higher this time. Hit the chest. Twist and pull. Again, higher. He hit the angel's neck this time. Instead of twisting, he jerked out the side. Only half of the angels throat was still attached. Kyran fell to the floor gasping for air and clutching at his neck. He looked up at Owen in desperation.

"You. You are the only, o-nly being to s-see us a-and y-you are b-better than the weep-" he said with his last words. His head tilted back and he slowly vanished. Owen turned around. Time was restoring itself and Owen could feel the life flooding from his body once again. The angels that Gwen and Ianto were taking disappeared. Jack looked up and saw Owen and all the damage that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"How... what the... Owen. Explain," he demanded.

"It's a long story. Basically, when he tried to drop me back in time, it didn't affect me because of whatever is holding me to this thing you call 'life' and both that and the angel were neutralized. It was a fist fight."

Jack nodded. He didn't understand what really happened, but he understood enough to know the basic gist of it all. Roger came running into the hall. He looked terrified. "The angels are all gone! Every last one of them!"

"I killed the original. The rest vanished. I watched those two fade," Owen piped up, taking a clump of stone off his dagger and sheathing it.

"Well, I guess that everything is done here. Let's pack up and get ready to go," Jack said. The team collected the stasis prisons that were on the angels before they vanished and went back to the large, black SUV. Everyone stood gathered around the black SUV under the morning sun. Dawn had seemed to creep up on them earlier than they thought it would. Time sure does fly when you are having fun. Or if you have any sense of danger. Owen had finished explaining everything that had happened down to every last detail that he could recall. Jack turned to Roger.

"Well, what will you do now? If you want, you could come with us," Jack offered the old man.

Roger kindly declined the captain's offer, "No. I still have a ton of quid from my time with Torchwood. I was thinking about setting up another Torchwood base right here."

Jack crossed his arms, "Very well. Let us know how that goes. If you ever need any help, we'll always be ready. Just down by the bay."

"Yeah. I'll be sure to give you a call if I ever need some help. I would like, though, if Torchwood 5 here would be kept unknown and off any records. Torchwood 3 is the only one people should know about, of course."

Jack nodded and grinned, "Alright. As long as you keep it a secret, then so shall we."

Jack hopped into the front passenger seat of the SUV and turned around. He gave everyone his big, infamous Harkness grin, then turned to Owen. "You can never bring this up again, got it?"

Owen nodded and Ianto pulled out of the driveway with Roger waving them off. They were sure that they would see him again. Hopefully it would not be under such circumstances as tonight.


End file.
